The Pureblood Institution
by amethyst218feb
Summary: In the 1930's, the Rosier's welcomed baby Druella into their esteemed family. Follow the story of Druella Black through her tumultuous life, and learn from her past as she becomes the mother of three very known Black witches.


-Disclaimer- I will only post this here but all forms of the Harry Potter Universe belong to JK Rowling, not me.

_The Pure-blood Institution: Aristocracy & Plutocracy in England_

* * *

_April 28__th__, 1929_

_The Daily Prophet would like to congratulate the Black family on their new addition. Cygnus Serpens Black was born April 27__th__, 1929 at 3:46 am to Mr. Pollux Black and Mrs. Irma Black. A healthy baby boy, he is the third child to be born to the Blacks. Their first born, Walburga Black was born June 2__nd__, 1925. Their second born, Alphard Black was born August 20__th__, 1927. Again, we at the Daily Prophet would like to offer our congratulations to the Black family on their newborn._

* * *

_October 14th, 1930_

_The Daily Prophet would like to congratulate the Rosier family on their new addition. Druella Adelie Rosier was born October 13__th__, 1930 at 8:30 pm to Mr. Cyril Rosier and Mrs. Vevina Rosier. A healthy baby girl, she is the second child to be born of the Rosiers. Their first born, Andre Rosier was born March 15__th__, 1926. Again, we at the Daily Prophet would like to offer our congratulations to the Rosier family on their newborn._

* * *

Preface

Cyril Rosier paced his study, anxiously waiting for the fire call from Black. Black was late, again, and it was now approaching 1 AM. Cyril didn't want to answer to Pollux Black, but Black had a son and Cyril now had a daughter. In the game of matchmaking, Black wins, unfortunately. He hated waiting; his temper was making his hands strain against the glass of scotch. He wanted to smash it against the wall, and rip his hair out. He didn't need this, well actually he did but he pretended otherwise.

The smell of acrid smoke filled his nostrils as the fire roared to life with the arrival of Pollux Black's head. He looked exhausted, his handsome face lined with age not befitting that of a 23 year-old.

"Morning, Cyril" Pollux said. He raised his hand in a greeting and pushed his hair back.

"Good morning, Pollux. I'm so pleased that you could find the time to speak with me. After all, you did know of this meeting since the birth. Speaking of which, Vevina wanted me to personally give our gratitude towards your family. She absolutely loved the necklace given for Druella," said Cyril. He moved to the chair opposite the fire, his scotch long forgotten and tapped his long fingers on the arms.

"Terribly sorry, Cyril, but Alphard has come down with Vanishing Sickness. It would not be a problem but instead of sleeping he was running the entire length of the manor. None of the elves could find him, and I was afraid that he would get into something. Irma finally found him covered in ink and curled up in the library. She had one of the elves take him to Mungo's. Hence why I was four hours late," Pollux explained.

"I hope for a fast recovery for Alphard," Cyril took a breath, steadying himself. "Shall we begin?"

"Certainly," Pollux answered.

"I would like my daughter, Druella Adelie Rosier, to become betrothed to your youngest son, Cygnus Serpens Black. Should you agree to this arrangement, my daughter will bring a dowry including: her own vault in Gringotts, four house elves, and a luxury house in Knightsbridge, London. She will also bring with her, her virtue which in 

some cases can be considered the most important. We will of course pay for the wedding completely, along with any other expenses my daughter may accrue," he said. Cyril looked on at Pollux, who in turn was nodding his head with a slight frown on his face.

"You would continue on with this engagement, even when my own cousin committed a most foul crime?" Pollux questioned.

"What crime would that be, unless you are referring to Cedrella Weasley? If that is the case, then consider it forgotten. After all, every family has skeletons in their closet. No one is completely without faults," said Cyril.

"What then of my brother? Would you be concerned of the deformities which may be present in future generations?" Pollux asked. His face flushed in the ashes with the shame that can only be brought upon by a Squib. It's the only thing a Squib actually donates: shame, humiliation and a tarnished reputation. Fantastic.

"Although you do make a valid claim, you and your wife are powerful spell casters. Therefore, I would imagine you would pass on those gifts to your children. I myself have an aunt who was a Squib," he answered smoothly. Cyril wished that Black would get on with it, for he was tired and aggravated.

"If I am to agree to my son's future prospects, I believe we should hand all expenses for the ceremony. Along with the house in London, Cygnus will come into the family manor in Northern England. The manor will be fully stocked, and at the ready should they wish to visit. Do you agree to these terms set forth by myself?" Pollux asked, his posture showing nothing but pure business. His face was eager to enter this new economic opportunity.

"I do consent to those terms. On behalf of my family, I offer thanks," he answered truthfully. "Send my best to Irma. I hope Alphard's condition isn't too serious?"

"No, he should make a complete recovery, thank you," Pollux glanced around Cyril's study before ending the fire call, and added, "Well, I never would have thought I'd be doing business with a Rosier. Times have certainly changed, haven't they?" Pollux sighed. And with that, Black's face left the room. Cyril breathed a sigh of relief. He hated having to answer to Black, hated it with every fiber of his being. It was so much easier with Andre, the roles were switched. Edward Parkinson instead laid his reputation on the line and answered to Cyril. That is how females leave you, feeling vulnerable. If Cyril hated answering to someone other than himself, he loathed feeling weak and exposed.

He got out of his chair and poured another glass of Scotch. It burned his throat, warmed his blood, and made his mind hazy. He settled into the window seat and left 

the curtains open. This was his study. The floor and walls were covered in a rich dark wood, its name located somewhere in his now hazy name. The east and west walls were covered in bookshelves and filled completely with priceless first-editions. The books to him were his prized possessions, though only those on the west wall belonged to him. His wife donated her books to his study in the hopes of a happy marriage…

A sharp rap on the door awoke him from his slumber. Vevina's footsteps echoed throughout the room as she approached him. Cyril could see her with his eyes closed and in complete darkness. Her flaxen hair, pale skin, and fair eyes; she was petite, with short fingers which now touched Cyril's shoulder.

"I did not startle you, did I?" she asked with a smirk. Only she could get away with speaking to him like that. They knew each other for years; knew each emotion and thought running through each others' head. He liked her, respected her even and in the grand scheme of things he might one day truly love her. She fulfilled her duty as a wife already after one year of marriage with Andre, and again most recently with Druella. Their family was complete, perhaps even perfect. The five years flew by.

"No, I was just resting," he answered. "Why are you still awake, what's wrong?"

"She is still crying. She hasn't stopped since you left her side. I think she's developed an attachment to you. Unhealthy really, all of the other mothers said that their children relied on their elves by now. What's wrong with her?" she asked him. Vevina paced the study with her eyes closed, she was upset.

"Nothing is wrong with her. It just means she craves attention, and will get what she wants because I'm going to check up on her right now," Cyril consoled. He left his seat, and was on his way to the door when Vevina's arm shot out to his.

"Do not. Do not even think about going to her. She's spoiled enough already. I won't have it! She has the whole house fawning over her, as if she were the prize and not Andre. He is the heir to our line, not her," she sniped. Her face showed nothing of it's outwardly beauty, but of the darkness inside. Cyril thought it funny that his wife was jealous of her only daughter. All because he would go visit Druella's nursery and not his wife's bedside. He did not look at his wife now, but straight ahead past the doorway and into the hallway.

"Vevina," he spoke softly. She released his arm immediately and backed out of the study. Her grace walk proceeded towards her bedroom, the door slamming softly. Cyril took one more swig of his nightcap, turned the light off, and shut the door. Lately, his wife has become more restless since Druella's birth four months ago. Her envy was palpable. His shame with her grew.

He walked the long halls of his ancestral home, up the stairs, past his son's room and into her nursery. Her cries could be heard from downstairs, though Andre slept on. His room was silenced hours ago. Druella's cries ceased the moment Cyril walked in. He looked at the house elf, simpering under his gaze.

"Tilly, that's enough. Go away now, I'll look after my daughter," he said. Tilly stared at the floor, willing her tears away with his single command. "Tilly, really you aren't in trouble. Stop your whimpering and go help in the kitchen." Tilly disapparated, and Cyril was left alone.

Druella. His wife picked the name. He didn't like it; he didn't think Druella looked like a Druella. She was red-faced now after hours of crying. She normally looked like her parents. Vevina contributed Druella's pale skin, light blue eyes, and full lips. Cyril gave Druella, her soft brown hair and button nose. For a child of four months, she was intelligent. Her eyes took in the exchange of master and house elf with complete interest. Her mind was a sponge; she absorbed everything that was said to her. Yet she only listened to two people, Cyril and Andre.

"Now you mustn't continue crying Druella. I do not approve of the extra tears. You are of pure and noble blood. As such, you must always keep your emotions in place. Never appear cross or temperamental. You are a little lady; children will look up to you. Do you understand?" he asked. Druella blinked, so Cyril took that as the correct answer. "Now you must also behave for your mother and the house elves. Especially, Tilly. She is now your maid, only yours. Andre has his own as well. So will you behave for your mother?"

Cyril could tell that this child, his daughter, cared nothing for the woman who gave birth to her. He could see the mysterious glint in her baby eyes, and wondered what kind of future his daughter would have. At four months, it is impossible to tell if an infant is ambitious in nature. If his daughter was, then she would marry into the most ambitious wizarding family known on Earth. If she was, then she would be the most powerful in his family. But of course, she can't be. Can she?

-A/N- This is my first story I've ever written for fan fiction. Please leave any comments, questions or reviews, thanks!

I'd like to point out that I could not find any info. on the Rosiers so the names are different, sorry. Also, Pollux is supposed to be born in 1912, but that means when he had 

his first born (1925) he was 13 years old. That kind of freaked me out, so I tweaked his age a bit, it isn't important so don't let it bother you.

Name Meanings

Cyril Rosier- "Lordly" "Rose Tree"

Vevina Rosier-"Sweet Lady" "Rose Tree"

Andre Rosier-"Manly, Courageous" "Rose Tree"

Cygnus Sepens Black-"The Swan" "The Serpent" "Black"

Druella Adelie Rosier-"An Elvin Vision" "Noble" "Rose Tree"


End file.
